


A Lake Cuiviénen Romance

by orphan_account



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Cuiviénen, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, First Kiss, First Love, First Meetings, First Time, Loss of Virginity, Marriage, Oral Sex, POV Third Person Omniscient, Romance, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-25
Updated: 2016-01-25
Packaged: 2018-05-16 06:20:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5817400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All the firsts in Finwë and Míriel's relationship, from first sight to first time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Lake Cuiviénen Romance

**Author's Note:**

  * For [uumuu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/uumuu/gifts).



> I made this completely canon-compliant, so they don't bond until they are living in Valinor. They do try other things before then, though.  
> Also, I made the assumption female elves have no physical characteristics of virginity, so Míriel can enjoy herself more ;)  
> Memaizaka, you inspired me to write this pairing, hence me dedicating this to you! Hope you enjoy XD

Finwë was taken aback when he first saw her; a beautiful Quendë maiden with hair the color of the stars. And how beautifully their light was reflected in the thick curling locks that nearly reached her waist, bound together loosely with a thin piece of twine. 

The Quendë had passed so close to him, carrying a basket of herbs, that Finwë had felt the slight breeze her movement caused. Yet she seemed not to have even noticed him. By now she was a good distance away, surrounded by other Quendi. A silver head amidst a sea of dark ones. 

 

Míriel doesn’t remember when she first saw him. Always liking to move around throughout all the Quendi settlements surrounding Cuiviénen, she had seen everyone’s face multiple times. There were so many that hardly anyone stayed in her mind for long, except for her neighbors. 

 

Finwë was awestruck by the sound of her voice the first time they spoke, which was the next time he noticed her passing by. He had been sitting by the very shore, watching waterfowl looking for food. As he noticed the silver-haired maiden walking ankle deep in the water, seemingly strolling without aim. his heart leapt. This was his chance to make her acquaintance. He spoke to her, and she stayed with him. Her voice was smooth as honey and melodious as a bird’s song. 

 

The first time Míriel spoke to him, she was surprised by why she hadn’t noticed him before, or remembered him. He was gorgeous, with his thick straight hair—some of it plaited into tight little braids—and perfectly shaped face. Not only that, but Finwë was a pleasure to talk to. Everything he said reflected keen intelligence, and a deep understanding of existence that not many other Quendi had. Despite that wisdom, his words had a playful undertone to them that made Míriel feel instantly at ease and immersed in their conversation. She felt regretful when she had to leave him. 

 

Finwë was unwell the first time she touched him. He had been out hunting deer with several of his friends when they had been ambushed by a small band of orcs. Whilst all of them had enough arrows with which to protect themselves and kill the assailants, one of their party had been killed, and Finwë had been injured. 

He was nearly passing out from pain when Míriel entered the hut he was in. She knelt by his side as the healer took care of his injuries. She spoke softly to him of pleasant things that somewhat took his mind off the pain and brought her hand up to hold his. Míriel’s skin was soft and gentle to the touch. It was as good a balm for his physical hurts as anything the healer had to offer. She brought her other hand up to caress his cheek.

“Sleep, dear Finwë, and heal,” she told him. 

Míriel’s soothing gesture, coupled with her calming voice, brought him under sleep’s spell as quickly as lightning. 

 

Míriel was laughing the first time he touched her. Finwë had relayed to her a particularly amusing jest. Though he often brought his good sense of humor to the fore, this time she couldn’t help but to outright lose control. She threw her head back against the trunk of the tree they were sitting under and laughed uncontrollably. When tears were threatening to start pouring out of her eyes was when he made contact with her. 

It was just a simple and friendly gesture: he put his arm around her shoulder and squeezed her arm gently. Yet feeling his hand on her bare skin sobered her up quite quickly. The circumstance felt far more pleasant to her than it had any reason to. Warmth spread through her core, and her cheeks heated up even more drastically. Too quickly he withdrew his arm, leaving Míriel cold and wanting. 

 

Their first kiss they shared right before Finwë left Cuiviénen to follow the Vala Oromë, to what he claimed was a distant paradise free from strife and fear. 

“Why do you leave, Finwë. This is where we Quendi belong. Is it not enough?” Míriel asked of him. 

Finwë left because Míriel deserved more. Because all of his kin deserved more than to be hunted and captured by Morgoth’s minions left and right, and however distant the possibility was that somewhere out there was a paradise they could travel to, he had to pursue this option. 

“I leave because I love you, my sweet Míriel. I want a better life for you,” said Finwë in response.

He then cupped her face, Míriel’s cheeks fitting perfectly into his palms, and tilted it up. He brought his lips upon hers, and they stayed like that for a while, relishing the electrifying feeling of such a wonderful proximity. Míriel slowly parted her lips and prodded at Finwë’s with her tongue. Tentatively he granted her entrance. 

Rather quickly both of them warmed up to the intimacy that neither had ever experienced before. It was unexplainably wonderful, and deeper into each other they delved, as if they could taste each other’s souls if they tried hard enough. Finwë broke away first, needing breath. He saw Míriel looking at him as if she was seeing a miracle of nature taking place before her eyes. Again and again they kissed afterwards, until Finwë could delay his departure no longer. 

 

The first time Míriel explored his body, she needed more than his kisses. He had returned to her, and told stories of the wondrous land he had visited, so full of light he claimed none who hadn’t seen it could imagine how beautiful it was. 

“More beautiful than the stars is the light of those two trees?” Míriel had asked him.

“Aye, but not more so than you.”

She had silenced him with a kiss. And they kissed every time they saw each other; passionately, heatedly, as if their existence depended on it. Yet Míriel felt as though something was missing. She was hungry for more than just Finwë’s lips. 

They had long been led away from Cuiviénen when she lay with him by the shores of the sea. Finwë’s followers were resting, and preparing for the voyage across the water. Míriel didn’t wish to think about that, though. Let the future come as it may. She wanted to focus on the here and now. 

Míriel lay on top of Finwë, knees on either side of his waist, as she explored every inch of his mouth. The night was unusually warm, and both were sweating. The way his skin gleamed as a result of that in the light of the stars was intoxicating. Feeling adventurous, she brought her lips away from his face and started kissing a path down Finwë’s throat. His skin felt hot, almost unnaturally so, and tasted salty. None of that stopped her. 

When she encountered clothing blocking her path further down, to his chest, Míriel made to remove his tunic. Finwë didn’t protest. He let her do so, curious as to what her plan was. She just continued her way down his entire chest; going slowly, kissing every inch of skin from the hollow of his throat to the edge of his breeches, her hand drawing tiny circles over his chiseled muscles. He loved what she was doing. In fact, Finwë enjoyed her actions to the point that his strong emotions and physical reaction disconcerted him.

As Miriel made to pull down his leggings, thereby exposing him completely, he stayed her hands, saying,

“Maybe you don’t want to do that. I’m…it…it’s painful, and swollen. I-I-I d-don’t think I’m well,” he stuttered, embarrassed of explaining exactly what was wrong with him because no-one had ever seen that part of him from close up.

“Nonsense,” she laughed, and proceeded to strip him of his remaining clothing. When she saw his erection, she looked distraught. “You’re right, that’s not normal.”

Then, with a conspiratorial smile on her lips, she drew close to his left ear and whispered, “I think it means you want to be even closer to me. Sometimes I ache when I am with you as well.”

It seemed to Finwë that her voice had become more hoarse than was usual. 

Míriel then sat back down on her heels and, before he could understand what she meant to do, started kissing his length, starting at the head and continuing down its underside to what lay beneath it. The feeling of her lips on that sensitive skin was nearly maddening, so pleasant it felt. Finwë tried telling her as much, but without his usual eloquence. He stroked her shiny silver hair in appreciation as she looked up and smiled at him, before she brought her lips again to the very tip, which she started licking slowly, as if savoring the taste.

When that seemed to be no longer enough for her, Míriel opened her mouth and closed it about his head. Finwë cried out from pleasure. The feeling of his beloved’s warm cavity around his arousal was nearly too much for him to bear. But he realized he could handle so much more, as she started taking him deeper and deeper, bobbing her head up and down his length. When he felt the firm, hot muscles of her throat clenching around his length, the pleasure turned to ecstasy. All thoughts left his mind, and of his surroundings Finwë was no longer aware. 

There was only Míriel, and the need for more of her tight throat and talented mouth. Every nerve was on fire, the heat in his groin nearly unbearable. That was when it did become too much for Finwë. He cried out as his body exploded from too much sensation—there was no better way to describe it. Yet as he recovered, he realized he was still whole and well. He felt warm liquid from erupt from his spasming length and flow down Míriel’s throat. She drank it as if it were water in a dry land.

Afterwards, they lay in each other’s arms, relishing the warmth of their intimacy. Finwë returned to a more normal state, his previous swollen member once more limp. He realized Míriel had been right. His _body_ needed her, not just his heart. 

 

The first time Finwë explored her body, they were both in the same place where he had first found release with her; it had happened but a while earlier. He marveled at Míriel’s beauty as she dozed in the crook of her arm, wondering how he deserved the affections and physical attentions of the brightest and most beautiful Quendi lass he’d ever met. 

Eventually Míriel awoke, and Finwë told her what he had been thinking of. Surprisingly, she said nothing, choosing instead to wrap her arms about his neck and kiss him deeply. When they broke apart, Finwë came to a realization, one that caused him to be disappointed in himself. Though she had pleasured him so beautifully earlier, and despite having told him she also needed him, he had not quenched her thirst.

He laid her down gently on the sand. Míriel looked up at him and smiled a smile full of warmth, love, desire…and every other positive emotion. Finwë’s heart swelled as he looked at her. 

He positioned himself above her, and kissed her as his hands traveled under her dress, skimming up her legs. He was determined to please her as she had pleased him, to bring her that same delightful release she had brought him. 

 _I ache when I am with you_ , Míriel had told him. _That won’t last for much longer, my dear. I will leave you sated, and no longer wanting._

Really Finwë stayed silent, already planting delicate adoring kisses along her neck. Soon his hands found their destination. Míriel was slick and hot between her legs. The feel of what he found there was amazing. Though the opening had been easy enough to find, he wanted to explore what she felt like around it. When he found a small round knob that he brushed his fingers over, Míriel abruptly grabbed at his hair. 

“Finwë, that felt wonderful!” she cried out. 

He would happily do that again, he though to himself. For the moment, though, Finwë withdrew his hand. With Míriel’s help, he eagerly removed her dress and tossed it aside. She was bare before him, in all her feminine glory. He kissed her collarbone, from one side to the other, as his right hand continued it’s ministrations on Míriel’s secret spot. He rubbed the small nub with his thumb, increasing the pressure on it slowly. 

His beloved responded by grabbing fistfuls of his dark, sleek hair, and giving voice to moans and small cries for more. His mouth had reached the level of her breasts, and, entranced by the dark protrusions in the center of them, proceeded to lick one with his tongue. 

“Oh, yes!” Míriel suddenly cried out, quite loudly. 

Neither really cared how much noise they made. All that mattered to Finwë was how much physical joy he could bestow unto her. And all that mattered to Míriel was the sensations he could make her experience, and encouraging him to continue. The more she urged him on, the greater the zeal with which Finwë undertook the task at hand was. He sucked her nipple in earnest, then moved on to the other one, as his hands continued exploring the area between her legs she seemed to take so much delight in. 

He returned to her slick opening, probing it tentatively. Her body seemed to lean into the intrusion, so he added another finger to the first, and then another still. The fuller she got down there, the more Míriel seemed to enjoy herself. She bucked into the now rhythmic motion of his hand, crying out. Then she gasped and fell silent. Finwë understood why: she had reached her peak. It was clear from the sudden clenching and unclenching of the muscles around his fingers. 

For a while they just rested in stillness, his head between her full round breasts, hand still between her legs. Eventually Finwë withdrew his hand and lay down next to her. When they faced each other, he noticed tears in her eyes. From the look on her face, he knew they were happy tears. 

“Finwë, you beautiful monster. I think you just destroyed me.”

They both laughed heartily. 

 

The first time they made love, effectively binding themselves to one another, was in a beautiful place. It was a land of love and plenty. A land where one no longer had to fear Morgoth’s minions. 

Earlier, Finwë and Míriel, officially now the king and queen of the Ñoldor, had hosted a great wedding feast attended by a multitude of Eldar who gave the couple their best wishes and brought many beautiful gifts. 

Now, though, they were completely alone. Finwë carried the silver-haired bride to his private chambers, where he lay her down upon an enormous soft bed in the center of the bedchamber. Many beautifully carved candles had been lit, which, along with Telperion’s light streaming in through the window, bathed the room in an ethereal silver and gold glow. 

The two of them started their wedding night with gentle kisses and tender caresses that grew more passionate and hungry by the minute. Soon both were naked, pleasuring each other with hands, lips, and tongues. 

Eventually, Míriel wrapped her legs around Finwë’s torso, and brought her hips close to his, feeling the fluid from his slit smearing against her belly. 

“Do you wish to unite our bodies now, my love?” she whispered in his ear, “For I much desire it.” 

The sound of her husky voice alone nearly caused him to climax. If they waited much longer, neither would last long enough to consummate their marriage. Now was the time. 

“Yes, I long for it as you do,” he answered, barely able to speak properly. 

Míriel felt her heart beat wildly with anticipation as she felt him align the head of his shaft with her opening. Without further ado, he breached her, carefully yet without hesitation, not stopping until his entire length was buried within her. 

Finwë looked his wife in the eye, and she returned his gaze. No words were needed. Their expressions said everything, and could never be fully described. This was right. This was what their relationship was destined for. This was the closeness they had been seeking for so long. For a moment they just cherished this ultimate intimacy, until their bodies’ desires demanded more. 

Míriel gasped when Finwë started to move inside her. The feeling of his arousal stimulating the walls of her entrance was electrifying, exhilarating, and like nothing she could have imagined without experiencing it first. Initially, he watched her closely to convince himself she was comfortable, being a bit worried as she felt so tight around him. His fears were quickly erased when she started moaning and urging him to go faster, her body meeting his increasingly frantic thrusts with pulses of its own. 

Míriel thought her husband looked beautiful when he came. His skin has assumed a radiant glow in the soft light from the thin sheen of sweat she felt on herself as well. He shut his eyes tightly and groaned when his shaft started to pulse within her and shoot out its hot strands of seed. 

For a moment she felt worried. She was just two thrusts away from her own release, and hoped he wouldn’t leave her unsatisfied. Yet he kept ploughing into her through his completion. She never should have doubted him, she realized as her own body started pulsing around his. Dear Finwë would never deny her anything, ever. 

Muriel cried out his name in the throes of her passion, and Finwë responded by saying her name soothingly over and over in her ear—like a lullaby—as his own climax died down. He slowly withdrew from Míriel’s body and collapsed right beside her. They lay silent for a long while, reconstructing everything that had just happened and wondering how it was possible to feel such pure joy from the mere union of two bodies. 

Eventually, Finwë lay on his side, facing his wife, and admired the magical beauty of her lying spent, hair tousled, in the silver glow of Telperion’s light. 

With a sly smile, he whispered “To see you like this, in the light of the trees, is worth the entire journey we endured.”

She slapped his shoulder and laughed, then said, “I love you too.”


End file.
